


Falling is like flying

by Orochimarisu



Category: Sengoku Basara
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Hideyoshi wasn’t a nice man in this fic, I Don't Even Know, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, No Beta, Pining enemies, We Die Like Men, Written mostly late at night
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-06-26 17:14:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19772788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Orochimarisu/pseuds/Orochimarisu
Summary: What if Hanbei’s fall was not the end of it. What if somehow he survived? Would the past forget about him?Falling is like flying, just with an abrupt stop.





	1. To set a stage

The fishermen of Ine had been blessed by the gods. They have been spared from war and the always hungry soldiers paid good money for their fish. So far they had not been forced to share their catch for free, as their houses were build on water and were hard to conquer as they would just float away, their nomadic background helping them survive. They lived near the cliffs. Sometimes a drowned deer that had fallen off the cliffs would show up in their nets, but nothing quite prepared them for what they found next.

At first they thought him dead. A specter, his skin almost translucent, his hair white and his body littered with angry red lashes. An ill omen. But no the man lived. Although barely. The gods must want him alive then, if he had survived a fight, a tumble and drowning, if the scars were anything to go by. The wise old lady of the village however pointed out a lung disease and while the man is still unconscious, treats him for it. Again she praises the gods, as she says the sea water has cleansed his lungs as he drowned. And there had been a lot of blood when they drained the man’s body of water. The man would later turn out skeptical about her theory, but he was not going to complain.

Ultimately it took months before the man even became conscious, coughing up the last of the water as he wakes. However he’s asleep more than he is awake and he barely registers what happens around him. The great battle of Sekigahara had raged. Tokugawa was the great victor and everything returned to normal as far as that was possible. Daimyos returned to their fiefs, focusing on rebuilding their homes, bury their dead. The man seemed to recall his past but had no ambitions other than help the kind people of Ine, and drink tea as he watched the sun set over the sea. He seemed to have given up on life entirely, now he had no goal. No army to command. No plans to bring to fruitation. His fingers were nimble enough to make nets and clean the fish. His skills in chess renowned even with the most skilled members of the village.

“Little Crane...” he hated the nickname, as he was neither little or a crane, but they found his appearance graceful and his neck, pale and slender as a crane. He might be considered small compared to the bulky seamen that had dragged his body out of the water. “... what are you thinking about?” One of the children of the village asks as he joins him for tea, settling himself next to him without asking. “Father says you think so much, and that is why your hair is white.” He chuckles as he closes his eyes and enjoys the last rays of sunshine on his face. It was the end of autumn, days were getting shorter and colder, so he tends to enjoy what little sun he can. “Your father is a wise man. Perhaps I do think too much.” 

There’s a ruckus in the distance, and he can see the fishermen return. They wave at them, but there’s no kindness in their gestures. It’s sheer panic. A woman’s scream rips through the air as fire catches one of the boathouses. An attack? He quickly picks the child up and places him in a small boat. “Get your sister and row away until it is safe.” He instructs him. “Do not come back unless one of us tells you to."

Himself he loses no time grabbing a bucket of water as he runs over the wooden plates that connects the houses. Once upon a time he got seasick just for thinking of being on a ship. Now he navigates the boathouses like it’s dry land. He tries to stop one of the many fires by now, as men fire lit arrows from the cliffs. He instructs the women to go to the boat furthest from the cliffs and push off. There’s a bow and arrows and he tries to shoot back, but both he and the bow lacks the strength to reach up to the cliffs. 

He does not recognize the mon the attackers don. Nor does he recognize their colors. So much has changed of course, but still. He prided himself in his intel and he was failing.

“The rumors are true then. There is one more head, one that seems to have sprung back to life, of the Toyotomi’s snake.” A man, clearly a higher official, he feels he should recognize but does not, says. Hanbei cursed as he had not been able to stop their advance. The men had invaded the floating city. He had no sword to defend himself with and he was surrounded. He drops the bow and raises his hands empty, to signal his surrender. “I ask that you stop your siege on the good people of Ine.” His soft voice implores. “They know nothing of my identity and had I known I was the target I would have turned myself in voluntarily.” The man ponders for a second, thinking it over. “They must be punished for their ignorance. Set their houses on fire but let them run.” He says sternly. The boat with the women on had long drifted off. An empty mercy but he would take it all the same. “And someone tie that vile snake up.” The officer turns away from him as soldiers bound his hands behind his back. “Takenaka Shigeharu, General Hanbei of the Toyotomi, you are to be trialed by our Shogun, Ieyasu Tokugawa.” 

A great calamity had befallen the fishermen of Ine. They never blamed their guest as they rebuild their homes and buried the few casualties they had suffered. Little Ono, the child that Hanbei had set on the boat, had witnessed it all. Their guest had willingly thrown his life at the Shogun’s men in exchange for their safety. How could they have known to house the strategist that took a castle with only 16 men? A legend. They would’ve boasted they lasted longer than ten moves against him in chess had they known.


	2. Chapter 2

At first the officer, Hiroteru, had him walking bound behind his horse. But no matter how cruel a man, the joy of dragging a weakened man behind his horse soon turned to annoyance as it slowed them down. It was also abundantly clear the man didn’t do it on purpose either. “I take it the rumors of you being sickly are true, then?” He asks as the once proud General is tied on his horse like a sack of potatoes. Hanbei didn’t answer. Again not on purpose, he was merely gasping for air. He may not be as bad as he used to be, his lungs had suffered damage, something most likely to never heal fully again. That seemed to appease the officer’s curiosity and they continued onwards. In the past Hanbei would be seething with anger at the way he is treated. Now however, he was just happy to be alive. 

Hanbei was kept alive on stale bread and staler beer, but the men that had taken him had no better. This caused everyone to be moody and nobody enjoyed taking the late night guard shift. The soldiers enjoyed taking out their anger on Hanbei. Mostly verbally, but he wasn’t surprised to be kicked in the ribs here and there. The weakened ex-general took it all in stride. Little did they know he had acquired something sharp enough to cut his robes. It was merely a question of when the opportune moment arose. And it needed to rise soon or they’d arrive in Edo, and his head on a pike would be just another reminder not to cross the new Shogun. He doubts Ieyasu can afford leniency with him. He also doubt his death would be clean or merciful. Hanbei wouldn’t have given him one either and he practically raised the boy. Sweet little Ieyasu, who was quick to stab Hideyoshi in the back not even before Hanbei’s body had hit the waves. 

He was not going to wait and find out, that’s for sure. He had paid attention to which horse was least tired. The watch that would guard the camp tonight consisted of three men, who also gambled their nights away, got drunk and fell asleep. This. This was his opportune moment.

No sooner did he hear the first snores does he start cutting through the rope. He fails every now and then, grazing his wrists. The blood made his hands slippery and only harder to cut, but he was desperate to get out of the ropes.

Once he does he frees himself of his other binds and he makes for the horses. He had left a piece of bread and placating the horse he had set his eyes on, he releases the others, before getting on a black mare. A man nearby stirs and he knows he has not a moment to spare. He nudges it and off he goes, into the night, towards his freedom. He rides all night and only stops because his horse can’t continue, every step laboured. He makes camp far off the road, no fire and curls up in the blanket he had used as saddle. He had not realized how tired he was. 

No four hours later he gets back on his horse and continues his journey. He reaches a small town in the Shikano province. If he goes East he would go to Kai, somewhere he doesn’t want to be right now, considering Yukimura being under house arrest. If he goes West he’d not only go back to where he came from, risk walking in Hiroteru’s clutches, but also Mino, where lots of Tokugawa’s family was just as eager to chop his head off in a bid to Ieyasu’s favour. South would return him to the sea, but also allies of the Tokugawa. North East then? It was cold and unwelcoming, but Echigo cares little for the new Shogunate and only adheres to Ieyasu’s mad new laws because they cannot afford not to. 

He trades in the riches he had quickly taken from the camp for food and a warm cloak before continuing his journey North-East. He names his horse “Little Crane” smiling at the fond memories of his time in Ine. Only when he is days away from them, does he allow to think on the implications of this whole situation. He had known. Of course, Hideyoshi had fallen, he had seen his plan fall apart before it even happened. He even knew this was a possible outcome even before his supposed demise. But the men had chuckled over his capture. Took bets on if his execution would be as public as the Minister. He knew that nickname. Bright and economically inclined Mitsunari had gained that nickname. Minister or the treasury. All of a sudden he knows who exactly Ieyasu had won against at Sekigahara. His loyal and beautiful Mitsunari. His wonderful boy, dead. He screams in agony into his clothed arm to avoid detection by anyone or anything. He had meant to seek him out once he had gained the strength to do so. But all he would find is a grave, if that. He had truly lost it all, then? He falls asleep crying.

**Author's Note:**

> Chapters will be short and updated irregularly. I have written out a few up ahead though.


End file.
